Memories
by FreakishlyGeekilyMe
Summary: On the morning of her wedding, Molly Hooper thinks back over the evolution of her relationship with the man she is going to marry.


_I do not own Sherlock or any of these amazing characters etc - you all know the drill. Also, this is my first Sherlock fanfic so please excuse any mistakes etc._

* * *

One spring morning, Molly Hooper sat up in bed, slowly opening her eyes as though unable to believe what she knew they were going to reveal. Passing blindly over the luxury of her hotel suite, they revealed it. Long sleeves, fitted waist, ivory lace and floating skirt. Her wedding dress.

However, all internal rhapsodies were cut short by the entrance of a gushing Mary Watson and her extremely _energetic _toddler, followed by an army of beauty technicians. Several blurred hours of hair, make up and dressing later, they all stood back to appreciate the masterpiece. With their unanimous approval, Molly turned to look in the mirror.

She looked stunning.

The low heels and slender lines of the dress made her look taller and the ivory lace combined with subtle make up and joy in her face enhanced her glow of beauty and joy. Her hair had been pulled back in a low bun which softened the lines of her face and her fragile veil - loaned by the soon-to-be Mrs Holmes Sr - completed the aura of sophisticated poise. She was ready.

Walking to the car alone - her mother having left with the rest of the guests - she slipped into a haze of terror and anticipation until they finally arrived at the church and she fell into memories of the past few years.

* * *

The media frenzy at Sherlock's return died down, John's wedding came and went, her engagement to Tom was broken off, and Toby got sick. A shallow, empty existence.

And then _he _began to notice her.

She saw him more often when she was out - brief glimpses reflected in a window, or a familiar figure in a crowd. Just looking at her. Intensely. Not like when she saw him 'socially' - Sherlock had started to give _ dinner parties _and other _social events _as a way to see John and Mary (he claimed) - then, he never looked at her that way. She would see him at St Bart's as well. Again, perfect calm in front of others and utter vulnerability when they were alone. Even someone with her tragic history of relationships could realise when someone was interested in her.

She could understand his hesitancy - John had previously mentioned the Holmesian view on sentiment ('a chemical defect found in the losing side') - and she knew how hard it would be for him to admit to any form of weakness. So, she waited and tried to decide what she wanted. This, this _feeling _wasn't the casual liaison she'd had with Jim, or the childish infatuation she had previously had with Sherlock - the one that had disintegrated while he was 'dead'. This was deeper.

As she watched him unconsciously develop his feelings and then suddenly become aware of them, she became aware of her own. The 'deeper feeling' she had felt. Love.

When he eventually asked her out to dinner she said yes.

* * *

Meeting her mother at the church's gate they walked down the path through the churchyard and entered the old, stone building she had chosen to be married in. He had tried to talk her into a small ceremony in London but a quick phone call to his mother had dealt with that. Having previously abandoned any hope of daughter's-in-law, let alone a chance of grandchildren, Mrs Holmes ("don't be silly darling, you must call me Violet") was determined to flaunt this new found triumph in front of as many previously smug relatives/friends as possible. As soon as he was allowed off the phone, her now extremely annoyed (but subdued) fiance had given her carte blanche over the wedding: "it's out of my hands darling so you may as well plan so that at least one of us is happy". She had worried that he would hate the entire thing.

Last week, after the rehearsal, he'd told her that she was a genius to have managed to arrange everything so perfectly and he couldn't believe he was lucky enough to be marrying her. When she mentioned this to the Watson's later they were full of jokes about managing to 'humanize him'. She could see them now, looking at him in what she presumed was disbelief at the nerves that could be glimpsed on his face. Looking further ahead, she could see the altar, the vicar and the two brothers standing next to him. She noticed how tense he looked as the music started and he knew that she was walking towards him. As she drew nearer, her mind returned to their first date. He'd been nervous then as well.

* * *

The text message he'd sent with dinner details had said that she'd be picked up at 8pm - dress: formal. After work, she'd had a shower and found a suitable dress to wear - knee length, black and fitted - as well as a matching coat, shoes and a simple necklace. Make up and hair she kept simple and was ready to go as soon as he knocked at the door. A chauffeured drive to an exclusive restaurant later (all John's comments about 'The British Government' suddenly making sense) she was astonished by how well they got on. After an awkward conversation about work, they found a few common interests (music, culture, travel) and everything snowballed from there as suddenly neither of them could talk fast enough.

Several hours, a _divine _meal and a debate about the merits of opera over theatre (he let her win) later he took her home and asked when they could see each other again. She said "as soon as possible" and he kissed her goodnight.

Over the next few months, things just got better. They didn't tell anyone they knew that they were dating - no one would have believed them and it was too much fun sneaking around together. He was busy a lot of the time, but when they couldn't go out together he would come over to her house or she spent the evening at his. They went out to dinner together of course, but he would take her to shows or on day trips. She did the same to him whenever he could guarantee being free - hardly ever.

She didn't know where they were going to end up. If, sometimes, late at night with his arms around her, she dreamed of a big, white wedding with him standing at the end of the aisle, in the cold light of day memories of his previous emotional detachment were enough for her not to drop hints. She was sure that sooner or later he would gradually turn back into his old self, cold and almost terrifying rather than her sweet but shy boyfriend. Then, after about a year he started to look distant or distracted, analysing her all the time until she was sure the end was was coming.

He asked her to marry him on the anniversary of their first date. Same restaurant, same table.

She had squirmed under his intense scrutiny throughout the meal, certain that the end was coming, until their desserts were finished and clearing his throat he had pulled a ring out of his jacket pocket and asked "Will you marry me Molly?".

* * *

They had reached the altar now and her mother was giving her hand to him. He took it, giving her the small smile that she knew was his equivalent of a passionate kiss in front of the entire congregation! The vicar began the service but they hardly noticed, gazing into each other's eyes for the whole ceremony. She could almost feel his brother's disapproval at their sentimentality but she couldn't care less. They were getting married, they loved each other and no grumpy,_rational _ future brother-in-law could spoil that!

The vows, the rings, the signing of the register and it was over. She was Dr _Holmes _now, the wife of practically the most intelligent man in the world and everything was perfect.

They walked out, arm-in-arm into a crowd of friends and relatives. Neither of them could stop beaming at each other and all the guests looked overjoyed - his brother even managed a small smile for the photographs. As he helped her into the car and she looked back at the smiling guests - all so happy for them both, she couldn't suppress a little smirk at the memory of the utter incredulity the initial engagement announcements had been met with.

* * *

Their parent's disbelief was understandable. After all, her mother had no idea that she was in a new relationship and his parents had no idea he even knew what relationships were! But, even though she wasn't expecting to have everything about it instantly deduced, had absolutely _no one_ she knew really not picked up a _single _hint from her constant 'busy tonight, sorry's ' and her shopping trips, weekends away or private texts/phone calls. Apparently not.

Mary Watson squealed in utter joy and astonishment at the words "I'm engaged" and her simultaneous flash of the elegant - quietly expensive - diamond ring, only to collapse in shock at the following statement of _who_ she was engaged to. John, coming in a few minutes later - Sherlock had told him - matched his wife in disbelief. By all accounts, Mrs Hudson was the only one to take the news well, phoning Molly as soon as she found out to gush congratulations and good wishes.

Her co-workers (she mentioned it to Mike who instantaneously spread the gossip) all came and asked either if was A) a joke B) a hallucination or C) they'd misheard. Greg Lestrade charged into the morgue as soon as he found out - again via Sherlock - to give the mother of all lectures about how dangerous 'that man' could be and now he really thought she should reconsider agreeing to '_marry _him'.

She hadn't been there when he'd told his brother but from what he was muttering under his breath that evening, it had NOT been a positive reaction. They had hoped for some scathing comments about 'ridiculous sentiment' and 'foolish mistake', followed by grudging acceptance of the inevitable. What they got was the usual disbelief (even _he_ hadn't noticed?) and a tirade on how foolish they were being, how the emotion would destroy him and how he was sure they would end up being absolutely miserable together. He said the same to her at work when he sauntered in to "endeavour to prevent her ruining his brothers life". She slapped him in the face and stormed out - after yelling how "sending her away would destroy his brother and how just because he'd previously had a bad experience (her fiance really could be an _awful_ gossip sometimes) didn't mean that she would ever do anything to hurt his brother."

The next day he texted his acceptance of best man duties and sent her a lovely present of one of their childhood photo albums - the note with it said _'You may find the contents useful in future when he tries to dictate to you.'_

When she looked, the photos were the type of pictures that most people make their parents hide and that to her fiance a preferable alternative to anyone he knew seeing them would be to have all his high security clearance revoked and to be sent to work somewhere boring and trivial (both brothers were easily bored drama queens - not that she could voice this fact without both of them coming after her seeking revenge). It was the perfect present. It showed he trusted her to look after his brother, that he accepted her as his future sister. Even if he did still think sentiment was a 'chemical defect'.

* * *

Her new brother was looking at her now, accepting. He'd been the last one to come to terms with the marriage but it looked like he was willing to admit that there was something special between them, something that he had never fully seen before. He nodded to her, a salute that went unnoticed by the groom as he finished his goodbyes to various people.

Her new husband got in and shut the door. The car moved off, family and friends waving as they drove away. They were finally alone, the chauffeur hidden by a screen. Complete privacy. " Well, Dr _Holmes_" he said, dragging out her new name,"as our guests do not demand our attention at present, can you think of anything we could do to pass the time."

"I'm sure there's got to be _something _that we can do darling... play I-Spy perhaps?" The look he gave at her teasing promised immediate retaliation.

After that, all further oral communications became entirely non-verbal.

* * *

_To anyone who didn't work it out, this was purposely written to be read as Mollcroft or Sherlolly - you choose your favourite interpretation. However, because I don't get enough reviews (an author never can) I have decided to run a little challenge. All that anyone interested has to do is to leave a review saying if they think this story is Sherlolly or Mollcroft and give a reason why. Best answer will have a short story written about their chosen pairing (story prompts may also be included in reviews for extra credit).Good-luck!_


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